Shiny, silver, smooth but dangerous
Small metal strips separate what was once whole.
Scarlet rivers drown out the virgin white.
It can never be pure again.
Adrenaline rush.
Hurts so good.
Pain is pleasure.
Burn so intoxicating.
Crimson aftermath.
A fine mess.
Wash away the evidence.
Cover it up.
Go further each time,
But never get enough.
Time fades away wounds,
But leaves a canvas of scars.
Cuts stitch themselves up,
Just to be ripped apart.
Flirting with death.
Touching more every time.
How far is too far?
It's not in my mind.
Critical stares.
Judging eyes.
They can't comprehend the love that lies
In my heart between me and pain.
Rip off the breaks,
Toss out restraints.
Don't wanna hide anymore.
I am who I am.
If my scars are exposed,
I want you all to understand.
Too far gone to stop.
Can't be saved tonight.
But as long as I'm bleeding, I know I'm alright.
It might bring me to my grave,
If I cut too deep,
But I'm no longer afraid.
Pain will never leave me,
It's my escape, my drug.
It's a guilty high.
That I've come to love.
The red ink that writes
The story of my life
Will someday run dry.
It might make me die.
But I've never felt more alive.
YOU ARE READING
Broken
PoetryA collection of poems I have written while in the clutches of my demon named Depression.
